


Bad apple

by othersin



Series: demon baphomet and the bird-brain archangel [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Corruption, Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Angel/Demon Relationship, Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Demon forms, M/M, ReverseOmens, angels are demons, demons are angels, over powered characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/othersin/pseuds/othersin
Summary: It only takes one bite, to have a taste of the other side.Crowley learns the hard way that he shouldn't mess around with Aziraphale's shop when the demon is not there.reverse!omens  demon aziraphale and angel crowley
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: demon baphomet and the bird-brain archangel [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680046
Comments: 6
Kudos: 109





	Bad apple

Crowley walked carefully into the dark and dim lair of the demon – the dark bookshop had a heavy scent of evil, sex and overly steeped tea (the kind you make the night before, forget about it, and then find it sitting on your desk – ice cold). It made the angelic guest feathers prickle uncomfortably in an attempt to not unfurl as his flight and fight response was kicking in.

The dark wood and ancient pagan tomes sang soft tempting words to all those who had entered, luring the unsuspecting mortal to give into their curiosity to go through the pages – unwittingly cursing themselves or summoning an unfathomable horror from another plain. Buzzing with demonic energy, like a swarm of bees taking flight around the earthbound angel as he ignored them dutifully

The bookshop seemed to add to the seedy atmosphere of downtown Soho at night, perhaps the unsafe feeling or even the attitude of the humans around here was direct result of this festering home of blasphemy in the amidst.

Truth be told, it was a tad unsettling to be in the others shop without the demon distracting him from the sensation of something perhaps as old or even older than them was watching him – the demon had been found sometimes talking to the shop like it was a living creature, the rattling of old plumbing could very well be the breath of the creature Aziraphale set up shop in, the same creature that allowed the angel in with their master away.

“Don’t mind me…just visiting” Crowley muttered out loud, the shops light flickered in response but nothing happened – he wasn’t even sure what would happen. He went in the back room where the others reading chair (more like throne) sat – a mahogany, leather - a Victorian piece that looked well-loved and well looked after sat empty for once. The demon often being found there or at his writing desk usually reading or penning some vividly worded letters that would make one’s eyes bleed, scathing insults and criticism of slight wrongs committed against him – thankfully the others dislike of computers had saved most businesses from receiving some horrible reviews though the years.

The angel looked around, and walked to the throne – looking around with his golden eyes to see if the demon was going to pop out of the ether, but the other perhaps was still out. Something about trying to console Lilith, trying to stop her from going on a murderous rampage through hell – apparently both the demon and her go way back, even before Eden.

He spoke of her quite fondly, Crowley had heard stories of the former first woman and her seductive, fiery nature – the ugly seed of resentment at the fond affections that the other shared with the consort of demons was always startling to the archangel, even made worse by the others cooing, ‘don’t be jealous’

Crowley was an angel, he couldn’t be jealous – it was a feeling that angels shouldn’t have, especially for demons. Crowley walked slowly to the chair, stroking the goat heads carved into the armrests – the varnish worn away when the other probably gripped the chair while he was being serviced by a rent boy or some human he lured into his parlor, like an hungry spider waiting in their web for a foolish fly to be caught.

Crowley sat on the chair, the cushion sunk slightly – surely it had been refurbished in the recent years, feeling like he was going something a little naughty and dangerous by sitting in the favored demon throne. Entering the others space without him there and sitting on something that is very much his. Relaxing for a moment letting his hands curl around the wooden goat heads for the armrests, a groove with decorative wooden piece gave way under his hand with a sudden click – the chair and the large bookcase that it was against opened up with a rumble. Crowley turned around slowly and stared at the hidden room with wide eyes, half expecting perhaps a sex dungeon or something of that like but it looked to be a room for a alchemist or even what humans imagine would be a wizards keep – Crowley knew of healers and even chemists that were trialed as witches in the dark ages that had similar abodes.

Crowley pulled up from the throne, biting his lip at the new found room – if the bookshop smelt old, this room smelt ancient and musty, the room perhaps not been visited by the demon in a long time. Crowley’s nose wrinkled at the unpleasant that he recalled his time as a healer, it was the smell of something rotten and faintly metallic – Crowley’s golden gaze narrowed at the dusty vials of faded gold and old feathers that lay scattered on the desk.

Crowley walked closer to the scattered occult items, the faint hint of the divine lingered which made Crowley consider that these were items the other acquired from previous angels – the vials were all filled with the golden blood of angels and the feathers looked to be ripped from wings.

The realization that horrible things had happened here, the faint flickering of a lantern of hellfire cast an yellow glow to the stone room – flesh bound books and one in particular that was embossed with the name ‘Necronomicon’ would cause enough alarm for a normal person. But for the archangel the most alarming was in the centre of the room was the apple tree with a strange divine light.

It was the tree of knowledge, not the same tree of knowledge but perhaps the seed, a daughter of the original tree – something had changed in it though, something inherently wrong pulsed around the emerald leaves and twisted the branches. The ruby red fruit and whispers called to the angel in temptation to try the fruit, think of all the knowledge he could gain – he walked closer to it and plucked a heavy fruit from the branch, the red peel was flawless and ruby like blood.

The whispers around him increased, the small voice in his head that was advising him that this was a bad idea, who knows what this fruit would do to him but that didn’t stop him from raising it to his mouth and bite into the fruit.

* * *

Aziraphale had returned to his bookshop, still smelling of brimstone and needing to sleep for a week for the emotional strain – he unlocked the door only to have the winding and lush green of a rain forest decide to grow inside. Aziraphale leaped back at the whipping of tree vines and roots that attempted to crawl out to the outside – Aziraphale looked at his shop in vague disbelief,

“Old girl, what did you let in?”

It creaked a little in distress.

The plants all curled around him, stroking his face gently as they gently pulled the demon inside – the aura was that of the angel, more powerful than what the usually anxious angel exuded (sure the other was an archangel but still the other was weaker than the demon prince normally).

“Angel, when I said you are welcome to my shop anytime – I didn’t mean for you to make it a second greenhouse – “Aziraphale followed the vines, the green had not damaged the books thankfully – the branches and roots cob-webbing in front of the bookcases. Aziraphale’s shoes sunk in the lush moss-covered floor – leading to the backroom dotted with mushrooms.

“Angel?” The demon began, gaze falling onto a familiar figure that he would welcome warmly any other time but there was something inherently wrong.

“Tell me my love, is this how it feels to be you?” Crowley’s voice drawled out, sitting sideways on the throne with legs resting against the armrests – encased and wrapped with roots and leaves now. Throwing an apple in the air carelessly, catching it every time it fell.

“If so, I have no idea how you can control yourself.” Crowley continued, “Why, I feel like I could take on heaven and hell.”

Aziraphale stared a little dumbfounded at the other, the others blazing gold eyes seemed to have emerald flecks in them now and the others conservative outfit of a long sleeved shirt and vest had been removed revealing the others slim frame – the angelic markings that Aziraphale had only seen glimpses of seemed to wind over his chest, shoulders and down his arms in golden snakes. Aziraphale could feel his mouth dry as the other hand that wasn’t playing with the apple was down into his pants lewdly, stroking whatever effort the other had decided to use.

“Uh…” The demon couldn’t help but stare at the lazy stroking.

“I believe I asked you a question, my love.” Crowley purred, with a sharp gesture – did the vines wrap around the demon and pull the half aroused – half afraid demon closer to his lounging form.

“I’m just going to assume that you found my stash of generally illegal stuff that could land me in a lot of hot water with both hell and heaven…?”

“Yes…” The angel drew out the affirmative sound.

“And my tree of corruption?”

“Is that what you are calling it? But I feel so…”

“Powerful?”

“Mm, yes – but I feel sexy too…” Crowley moaned, arching – Aziraphale won’t lie, he had imagined the others face in amidst of orgasm before but he had been the cause; not his little side project he kind of gave up on.

“Hey stop that, that fruit on the tree is unstable – I have no idea how it reacts with divinity.” Aziraphale muttered with narrowed eyes taking in the rain forest his bookshop had turned into, “Obviously turns you into Poison Ivy…”

“Poison ivy?” Crowley muttered, dropping the bitten into apple – it rolled away from his now limp hand.

“It’s a character from a graphic novel – but that doesn’t matter, you got to spit out the bit you ate!” The demon demanded; goat eyes filled with concern.

“But I don’t want to…don’t you like me like this?” Crowley hummed, pulling the ivy bound demon even closer, righting himself and standing before the unimpressed demon, “You enjoy the company of Lilith, I thought you would like this.”

The other was buzzing with energy, the archangel desired to share the sensation with Aziraphale – the demon did look tired and annoyed however as the stronger of the two he growled out,

“Crowley, I don’t want to hurt you – if you don’t cough it up…” Aziraphale was cut off by a mashing of lips against his own, the angel hungrily kissing him – full of clacking teeth and overly wet. Aziraphale jerked away, a flicker of hurt danced across the angel’s eyes but it hardened into something quite ugly in those golden depths.

“Don’t you dare!” Crowley grabbed the others face roughly, “How does it feel to be on the receiving end for once?”

The other moved so boldly against the demon, ignoring the warning in the others blue depths as the moved down to the others neck – sucking and biting at where his shirt met his neck. His wondering hand had slipped to the fount of the demon’s dark pants, feeling the wanting flesh harden at the attention – the demons corporation reacting to the stimulus automatically but he was unwilling mentally to treat this as a fulfilling a carnal need.

“Crowley, let go of me.” Aziraphale snarled, Crowley just looked at him – his usual divinity clouded in a strange haze, a mix of something chaotic and unruly. The other was not acting demonic but rather something even worse – but it was not the angel’s fault, Aziraphale didn’t know what caused him to even keep the seed or even plant it. It was supposed to be a gift for humanity, but there was something wrong with it. A spiteful part of Aziraphale had figured it would be fitting to give the angels, demons and even humans that wronged him a taste of their own medicine but he outgrew that dated view but did not destroy the cursed daughter of the tree of knowledge.

Aziraphale just snapped at what the other whispered in his air,

“Make me.”

Now, Crowley had not experienced firsthand on what happens when Aziraphale is pushed into a corner – as a goat does not take kindly to being caged in neither did Aziraphale. Aziraphale headbutt the angel, hard – the arch angel staggered back stunned as the vines under his control slackened which gave the demon the opening, he needed to grab the angel once he was able to pull his arms free from the plants grasp.

He tackled the angel into the nearby bookcase, Crowley responded just as angrily back when the cobwebbed vines on the cases attempted to pull the demon off – a sly root had pulled the demons foot from under him and into the soft moss which decided to grow over him in the seconds he was on the ground.

“That hurt!” Crowley snapped, wiping at the blood that began to drip from his nose – he healed it quickly and looked down at the demon covered in surprisingly strong moss, Aziraphale pulled away only to have the roots twist around again. Crowley leaped away however at the demon’s eyes flashing as blue flame ensnared, burning the moss and roots.

The snare was released but before Aziraphale could attempt to get close and force the other to cough up the cursed fruit – a sudden thick column of roots retaliated, ensnaring and rushing the demon like a large wave. It flung the demon outside, a few passer-by’s stared stunned at the writhing roots forming into more of a physical shape – Aziraphale was thrown onto the road had to use further demonic miracles to stop the traffic, stalling all engines, allowing all the humans that were inside to stumble out and join the onlookers.

Aziraphale stood, looking worried at how many of the humans pulled out their mobile phone to record the other worldly alive thorny branches and whipping vines. Aziraphale was about to bring down the mobile network to minimize the trouble it would cause later but he was a little distracted by the stalking figure of the archangel with full wings out, raising a hand to the mess of branches.

“Aziraphale, I’m still waiting.” Crowley sang.

God damn, who knew the other would become so power hungry – the demon was not going to lie, it was kind of hot.

“Are we really doing this?” The demon huffed, righting himself.

“ _JORMUNGANDR_!” Crowley snapped his fingers at the mess of roots, they shivered before twining together, sweeping the angel up before knotting together into a large serpentine shape that would rival Aziraphale’s own demon form – well, at least the humans had enough sense to flee as the towering shadow of the tree serpent loomed over them, the serpent with blazing gold eyes like embers and a loud hissing scream had emerged from its branch filled and thorny mouth.

“Fuck, we are doing this.” Aziraphale muttered, burning his own insignia in the ground as the tree serpent charged at him – maw wide open to devour him whole.

Demonic hands pulled Aziraphale away – only to have the hulking true form of the demon emerge from the gateway of the ether, his black fur and burned skin still burning bright like embers or lava. The demonic creature caught the jaws of the large serpent, curled horns cradling the flame that was blazing the orb of flames due to the sudden and sharp stress on his body.

“Fuck!” Aziraphale shouted, feeling the road give way by the force of the other trying to swallow him whole – the angel turned serpent decided that it was not working and began to wrap its thorny coils around the demon.

The demon lord Baphomet was standing his ground, the large serpent had wound itself around the other – attempting to constrict around the muscle-bound goat demon, maw being held open by the others trembling arms and claws.

“Anthony…” Aziraphale groaned in that warped voice from the bigger form he shifted to quickly out of defense, struggling to keep the snake’s jaws from snapping onto him – using all of his demonic strength, distracted briefly at the glinting and tar covered object wrapped in the branches of the serpents long winding throat.

It was the piece of apple.

Aziraphale looked at the sharpened branch points, barbed with thorns acting as fangs warily – for him to be able to reach and grab the piece of apple, he would need to let go from holding the jaw from snapping down but this has gone far enough.

He released his grip, and lurched forward to pull out the partial digested apple piece – more tar like then fruit like anymore, his clawed grip grasping it tightly to rip it out but not before the serpent snapped down on his arm. At the sudden pain, the demons blue flame engulfed the serpent.

* * *

Crowley was startled awake so very suddenly, feeling ill and throat feeling sore - taking a moment to realize that he was in the demon’s bed in the flat above the bookstore. The demon was in the plush armchair, arm wrapped up in bandages looking like death warmed over - looking leaner than usual, as if a great toll or use of demonic magic had been used very suddenly.

“So, did you have a nice nap?” Aziraphale snapped.

Crowley raised a hand to massage his throat, confused and not recalling what caused the injury – zeroing onto the bandaged arm.

“Aziraphale! What happened to your arm?” The angel said alarmed.

“…You don’t remember?” The demon said ludicrously, anger softening.

“Did someone in hell do this to you?” The archangel continued.

“…” Aziraphale pursed his lips together.

“Aziraphale?”

“Tch, you think this is bad – you should see the other guy.” Aziraphale laughed, looking at wall rather than the angel.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

“I’m fine as long as you are…no sudden urges of control over nature?”

“What?” Crowley blinked, confused.

“Nothing.” The demon waved the other off standing up and seeming to make a move, “I’m going to get you some lemon tea.”

The demon left, leaving the other in his large bed – the angel tilted his head, still stroking his neck,

“Control nature?”

And why did it feel like he drank something scalding?

* * *

leave a kudos and comment if you liked :)


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